Imadoki no Shisunki
by Playgirl Eugene
Summary: REWRITTEN! Previously Gakuen Story - Sensei Hours. The problem when you drag an unsuspecting nineteen-year old virgin to a goukon is that he’s a, well… virgin.


**IMADOKI NO SHISUNKI ~ AWAKENING PUBERTY**

_Written by Playgirl Eugene_

**Author's Note : **Hi, all. This is the new, revised version of the story _**Gakuen Monogatari ~ Sensei Hours**_, now _**Imadoki no Shisunki ~ Awakening Puberty**_. I realized that my older stories contain plenty of grammar mistakes, event mistakes, and many other errors. So, I decided to repost everything all over again. I hope with this, my old readers will continue to support me and I will attract some new readers as I tried to improve my writing style and grammar.

**Standard Disclaimer:** The Prince of Tennis and all of the characters, including the original plot and situations, is created and owned by Konomi Takeshi-sensei. I own nothing of it and I do not earn profit of any kind from this and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. This disclaimer stands firm for the whole of the story. Furthermore, if I use any material that needs to be disclaimed, there will be individual credit where due.

**Summary : **The problem when you drag an unsuspecting nineteen-year old virgin to a goukon is that he's a, well… _virgin_.

**Rating:** M/NC – 18/R

**Warning(s) :** Slash/yaoi/male x male, non-descriptive heterosexual sex, cussing, graphic sexual situations/acts, dub-consensual, obvious OOC-ness. If any of the aforementioned warnings offends you, I suggest you turn back now. I will not appreciate anyone flaming me just because they didn't read this.

**Setting and Timeline:** Utterly AU and has absolutely no connection with the cannon except for the borrowed characters and faint similarities of their original relationship in the Prince of Tennis.

**Character Setting :** Ryoma/Fuji, Ryoma/OC, past Ryoma/Yumiko, Sanada/Yukimura, Atobe/Tezuka others for later

**Chapter Details :** None in particular.

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-- Prologue --

"_Why me?"_

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Every now and then, Fuji would found himself waking up to a typical, perfectly bubbly and bright morning, feeling like a first-class moron when he realized that he was about to face another day of his completely ordinary and completely boring life, something that he wanted to end so badly at times, but couldn't, for both reasons of the duty he bore and his incapability of executing the thought.

But really, sometimes everything seemed just so plainly obvious and utterly stupid. It had something to do with that lifestyle Fuji had grown familiar with over the years, like a repetitive cycle that was really like venom that travelled slowly in his veins.

Occasionally, he wanted to change it all. Sometimes, he thought he was crazy for thinking that way.

He knew that he wouldn't be able to handle the myriad and flashes of bright and blotchy colours in his usually lacklustre life. The thrill of passion could've been too much for him, threatening to swallow him whole.

It _burned_.

But then, he would never live without it, even if he had wanted it otherwise.

It ensnared him like nothing else, it practically beguile him to _sin_, to shed the mask he wore and simply feel, to abandon every sanity and rationality, ignore his mother's words, and to feel dirty and free and simply beautiful when he teetered at the brink of the addictive guilty pleasure and his sense of obligation.

It was wonderful to sin, he craved it; it was enthralling to a point that it subjected him to mindless animalistic instinct.

The strangest thing was probably when he found out that his world was actually toppled over by some frivolous, pretty little reasons that he had.

For someone like him, he had thought it was impossible for someone like him.

Who would've thought that the thing needed to crack the icy monotony of his life was that simple, stupid morning that he thought would be like just any other.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

The bus that morning was almost too crowded, and like any other good weekday, it was stuffed to a point where the passengers were pressed together, cramming uncomfortable against the other.

The morning rush hour traffic was swarming with pedestrians and vehicles of all shapes and sizes, car horns were blaring and the jammed traffic was not helping. Whilst the rather inconsiderate driver slammed his brake and gas pedal without any forewarnings whatsoever, causing the bus to bump and jerk rather violently every once in a while. It swayed most of the passengers, causing them to stumble and curse under their breaths.

Fuji Shusuke was standing near the back of the bus, holding the railing to gain a leverage of sort. He was trying to concentrate on the note he was reviewing, but the sharp smell of the office ladies and their perfume along with the reek of hair gel was admittedly distracting.

He could see some older men reading newspapers as they stood. The high school girls were grouping over there, clad in their too tight sailor uniforms, with decorated cell phones placed on their eccentrically manicured fingers as they chattered away about so-and-so-doing-something that surprised everyone, or so-and-so had sex with so-and-so then surprised everyone.

Some male adolescents were cracking up some dirty jokes on the other side, sharing snickers and knowing grins. Their voices sounded like crickets during summer nights, incoherent but no less noisy for sure.

And of course, there were his so-called 'friends', if he could even remotely call those creatures that.

They were either standing up or lounging around at one seemingly exclusive corner on the rear seats. Either the passengers were wary of them and chose to stay clear instead, or they were simply used to it.

And as usual, each one of them were fawning and drooling over that infuriatingly aggravating being as they talked about someone from here hooking up with someone from there, or this guy was hot and that guy was even, as they put it, even fucking hotter, and some other superficially phallic nonsense that had nothing to do with Fuji's commonsense.

Because, for all the things good and holy, male or female didn't make much to any difference at all as long as they could be bent over a surface and screwed or vice versa for the likes of them. Or even, they didn't have to bend.

Fuji was used to it, but it didn't mean that he could stand it without feeling the urge to spill his breakfast on the ground. He creased his eyebrows delicately in disgust discreetly, knowing that it would only invite unnecessary troubles.

He should just leave him alone, like he always did and had always hoped to be. To comment anything good or bad about this matter would just brought the reverse effect, something that he _really_ didn't need.

So as he tried to mind his own business while ignoring theirs, Fuji was hoping that they caught the message and just left him alone. Well, kind of anyway. But some people were simply either that thick, or that annoying. And some people just couldn't get some peace and quiet, and for his case, some people didn't allow him to.

Just as he thought about it, like it was jinxed, _he_ decided to further ruin his already grim morning.

"But I gotta say though, that kid from Rikkai was freaking hot!" The rather burly redhead whistled as he made an act of fanning himself, "He's almost as hot as his pretty boy of a brother! Or better yet, he's _fucking_ hotter with that stuck-up attitude of his, all icy and prudish! Damn it, I wanna see how the neat freak's going to like all hot and bothered while begging me to bang him harder!"

"Shyeah, it's always the quiet ones…" another commented rather wistfully.

"Is he now… ahn?"

Fuji almost shuddered as he heard the silken voice oozing with sexual confidence and sugary whine that didn't betray his pampered upbringing.

"Come to think of it," the very owner of the voice continued, "I've heard about a new transferee from America at Hyoutei from a friend of mine too…"

"Hee, is he a gaijin?"

"No, half Japanese from what I heard. And he's very good looking, they said. I want to see this… new kid…"

Mizuki Hajime was practically purring as he licked his upper suggestively, trailing his fingers across his full mouth.

He appeared to be almost deep in thought for a minute, glancing heavenward briefly before he came to a decision with a satisfied grin.

"I've decided!" He wriggled a finger, sounding as important as the prime minister himself. "We'll set a _goukon_ with Hyoutei this upcoming Christmas Eve. Of course, on the condition that this new kid must be there,"

"Hey, that's a good idea!"

"Cool! I'm in!"

"That's our Haji-chan; always the one with the brilliant ideas!"

Fuji mentally made a gagging motion, a more morbid and sarcastic inner self inside of him was cackling mad.

'_Yes, yes… Mizuki Hajime is a godforsaken genius. He's brilliant really, a virtuoso. Pity that he doesn't possess the brain to exercises that wonderful talent anywhere _outside_ the bedroom,'_

"And you're coming too, aren't you, Shusuke?"

Fuji blinked as eyes were suddenly turned to him. Hadn't he just said, though mentally, that he was _not_ interested?

Then again, they weren't exactly hearing it. Not that it would make any difference even if he did voice it out loud. They were just _that_ despicable and he was simply _that_ much of a coward.

He inwardly groaned; agonizing and accusing lady luck being a spiteful bint and hating him more than it was appropriate. Either that, or she was just having too much free time and too much fun on his miserable account.

'_Why me?'_

Fuji quickly, but timidly, shook his brunet head as he shuffled a little on where he stood.

"N, no… I don't think I can, Mizuki. I'm uhh… I'm not… interested in that kind of… things, and…" Fuji's meek voice trailed away, his blue eyes darting uneasily on everywhere else but Mizuki.

Mizuki merely gave him a look.

"I, I mean… I have cram schools, Mizuki. And, and besides… I'm not good at—"

"Exactly why I'm asking you. Don't be such a spoilsport, Shu." Mizuki shrugged with a careless wave of his hand.

"Eh?" came Fuji's intelligent reply as he stared dumbfounded at the other male who already turned away, completely ignoring Fuji to favour a handsome, bespectacled young man wearing a casual ponytail and immaculate off-white shirt combined with black slacks.

Oshitari Yuushi was sitting elegantly on one of the flank seats, with his long and powerful legs crossed, and a thick book resting on his lap. He was the perfect picture of reservation and calm control that was not simply stoic, but more arcane.

Mizuki had this contemplative look on his face, even as his eyes shone with unreadable determination and mental calculation.

"How about you, Oshitari?" Mizuki sultrily addressed the bespectacled man; a seductive smile slowly crept its way to his bowed lips. He lowered his legs and switched their crossed position, leaning forward as he rested his right elbow on his thigh.

If the addressed male had heard him, or noticed the suggestive flick of tongue Mizuki did, he didn't give a sign of acknowledging it.

"Do you want to come along?" Fuji swore that Mizuki's eyes gleamed savagely predatory as he spoke, "It might bring back… old memories, for all you know it."

There was no reaction, not even a spared glance. Oshitari flipped a page calmly, as if not even noticing the infamous Mizuki Hajime talking to him even though Fuji was sure that he would've heard Mizuki despite the machine's low rumbling and the inarticulate murmuring that surrounded them.

Mizuki simply opted to stare at Oshitari almost solemnly, but the rest of his overprotected fan club couldn't just stand and watch while their 'goddess' being ignored and mistreated.

"Hey, dickwad!" bellowed one of the Mimes, "Haji-chan is talking to you!"

"Yeah, you should—!"

Abruptly, Oshitari closed the book with a thump so loud that it startled Mizuki and his little entourage into a sudden silence. They could only stare as the bespectacled man rose to his feet with fluid and economic movements, slinging his bag to his broad shoulder and pressed the book to his side as he pushed the frameless glasses up the bridge of his nose.

Oshitari slid his eyes shut, picturing poise and calm as he turned his body away.

But throwing a glance pass his shoulder, his cold gaze fell upon the group of slightly stiffening fan boys with evident contempt in his hawk like eyes.

"I have no time to waste… unlike you, _inept_ people."

Oshitari titled his chin upward and used his left hand to push the glasses up the bridge of his patrician nose; a disdaining huff escaped his lips as he turned to get off the bus. The noisy group could only gaped at him like a bunch of fishes thrown out of the water as Oshitari made his way through the crowd.

To Fuji, it almost looked like the crowd parted to make way for him. Of course, it was more due that more than half of the passengers got off here since it was an industrial area, Oshitari's standoffish charisma was still quite something.

And for some people who rarely got slapped across their pretty face like Mizuki, it must have hurt his pride, no matter how delusional he was and no matter how good he was at denial.

More than a few coloured and paled with embarrassment and repressed fury at blatant contempt that Oshitari just hurled their way with cool disdain and virtually no passion.

From where he stood, Fuji could've sworn that Oshitari's thin lips curled into a smirk before it was gone as the man slid his eyes shut and turned his body.

"The next stop is the campus. Perhaps you should pay a little more attention, lest you want to miss it,"

With that, he was gone into the thick crowd before any of them could even say anything. It wasn't until a full minute later that what he said was actually registered through their thick skulls and then, they started to bristle like a bunch of offended female cats.

"Who the hell that motherfucker thinks he is?" snarled a brunet boy with freckled face, flashing Oshitari's back the finger.

"He got some balls talking to Haji-chan like that after Haji-chan invited him!"

"And ya know something to make worse? The chicks really dig him and his prissy silent act, don't ask me why…"

Fuji fought the urge to snort, and instead settled for a discreet roll of his eyes.

'_Aww gee, couldn't be because he's good looking, could it?'_

"He's just being a fucking prude," a curly haired male with beady eyes jibed in, crossing his arms.

"Heard that his folks are a bunch of rich fucks, and he's strutting his hippy ass around like he owned the damn place."

"Did you see what he was reading earlier? It's written in English!"

"He's just showing off, the fucking prat."

Fuji scrunched his nose in distaste. Now _why_ didn't they speak up to save their lives when the man was _there_?

Mizuki's eyes lingered on Oshitari's firm back for another minute before he slid his eyes shut and waved his hand in a flippant manner.

"Let him be. It doesn't matter,"

"What?"

"But Haji-chan, he went over the—"

Mizuki simply raised his hand to silence his protesting entourage and waggled his finger as if reprimanding them like a poor imitation of a mother would their stubborn son, "It's his lost, not ours. After all, I merely asked him out of piety and I am not about to force him into something he doesn't want,"

The boys stared at him, wide wondrous eyes filled with awe and adoration as if Mizuki was the sun itself, before they started to fawn all over him again, showering him with every praises with as many words as their pitiful brain could come up with.

Mizuki merely twirled a lock of his brown curly hair around his forefinger, giggling in a way that made him looked like a complete airhead, mirroring that of his own followers.

'_Yare yare… There they go at it again… amazing what some people are willing to ignore just because they can't face reality.'_ Fuji's inner self muttered with a mock sigh. _'One would think that you'd have gotten used to it considering their pathetic for brains,'_

Admittedly, one had to admire Oshitari's guts. After all, the majority of the student population at his campus adored Mizuki Hajime, and some of them would do the most absurd and preposterous things to please him.

And should Mizuki desire it, a snap of his fingers was all that was needed to turn Oshitari's life at campus into a living hell quite literally, Oshitari heir or no.

Mizuki Hajime could just _that_ dirty.

Oshitari Yuushi was a loner, yet gallant wolf. He was popular and pretty well known, being the object of admiration for most of the female population in school and also, the prime adversary for the males since day one.

One week was all he needed to turn Mizuki Hajime's so called fans, which was roughly around two third of the school's population, against him.

While Mizuki hadn't exactly ensued any particular 'order' to ruin the guy's life for some unknown reason and acted carelessly nonchalant about it like he'd everything else, Fuji knew that he wasn't exactly pleased by the continuous rejection and almost disdainful dismissal the handsome man had responded his offers with.

Mizuki had been trying to get close into the long haired male, probably close enough to slip into those tight pants, but considering the many embarrassing refusal he was made the receiving end of.

Oshitari Yuushi was simply wasn't interested, and Mizuki refused to believe that there was someone he couldn't get into his bed when he really tried, being the pretty little bimbo that he was. It bruised his pride apparently, and seeing that his vanity and the many sexual conquests he had conquered were his only redeeming qualities, Fuji understood why he guarded that to such an extent.

To be honest, Fuji admired Oshitari and his guts to offend the princess, even though it only served to fuel Mizuki's desire to subdue the other tensai even more. Fuji had even entertained the thought that the high and mighty Mizuki Hajime might even be infatuated by the handsome heir. Why would he be so generous to him otherwise?

Oshitari looked like Mizuki's favourite type, after all, being the tall, dark, and handsome sort.

Once again, it raised a question of _why_ had Mizuki insisted that Fuji hung around him when he was clearly _not_ Mizuki's type?

Fuji signed once more; his mounting distress and exasperation in that single gesture, wondering and bloody cursing whatever lucky star he was born with that stranded him in such ill-fated position.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

Fuji was sitting somewhere on the third row of their classroom, quietly revising the notes of one Mizuki Hajime, one that contained almost too many mistakes judging from the amount of scribbling and the words he crossed out.

He wondered whether Mizuki was even looking at it when he did it, but then again, Fuji supposed that Mizuki could always dump it on him to as usual.

Suddenly, the book was snatched away without a warning. Looking over, he could see Akazawa, one of Mizuki's better looking and half decent associates, holding it while skimming over it condescendingly. A pretty brunette with Bambi eyes, definitely another one of the giggling and simpering airheads that inhaled too much beauty products until they even more retarded if possible, was hanging off his strong looking arms. Apparently, Akazawa had changed his girl again. She was the third one this month, and wouldn't be the last.

"What's this, Mizuki?" Akazawa raised an eyebrow at Mizuki, smirking meaningfully at the now giggling male, "Were you sexed up so much that you couldn't even properly write half of the things the old geezers said in class?"

Sugihara, as he found out about Akazawa's new girl, scrunched her nose delicately as she stared at the note Fuji had just corrected. He doubted that she even recognized half of the katakana characters, let alone understanding what he had written.

"Jeez, Fuji, aren't you supposed to make something that Haji-chan can actually read?" the girl said abjectly, "How's Haji-chan supposed to read this?"

Well, the paper was admittedly a bit… crowded, but Mizuki only had himself to blame since he had made just about every mistake in the grammar and technical terms in the history of Tokyo Daigaku. He wasn't really expecting Mizuki to read it anyway, and even if he did, Fuji was sure that he wouldn't understand even the first ten words.

"Oh, my god! I thought you were supposed to be helping him, not ruin his hard work! Can you believe this mess? Look, you guys!" Sugihara jeered and took the papers from Akazawa before passing it to her two girl friends, immediately commencing a tirade of snide comments and cries of exaggerated outrage.

'_God, that dunderhead is one pain in the rear. Wonder how Akazawa even survived a minute with her, but then again, why did I even ask?'_

Fuji was exasperated. It wasn't that he was doing it voluntarily either.

Mizuki, who was sitting at the lower second row, merely chuckled as he waved his hand with Yanagizawa, a duck faced boy with hairstyle that poorly imitated a duck's tail, who was standing behind him while messaging his shoulders.

"It's not like I'll need it anyway. I just asked Shusuke to write it because that Kotani has been hounding me for days since I didn't pay enough attention in class," Mizuki shrugged carelessly, "Seriously, that old bag needs to get laid and fast! Sexual frustration seems to make her even crankier than usual!"

"As if any man would want her even if she strut her wrinkly stuff on the nearest lamppost! She smelled like stale cow barn,"

"Yeah, bet hers down there is already mouldy and skanky!"

"Eww, gross!"

"Spare me the image!"

With practiced skill, Fuji turned deaf ears to their vulgar conversation and instead tried to concentrate back to his previous task, once the notebook was returned. They chattered away and Fuji was almost glad that they left him out of their little tête-à-tête, at least until someone mentioned his name.

He was sure that fate was a bitch that held a personal grudge against him right at that moment.

"You know, I've been wondering about it for a while…" another girl with bleached blond hair that Fuji recognized as Honda spoke in a slurry voice as she took a seat next to Mizuki, "You two are sooo different, Haji-chan! But you look awfully, I dunno, close maybe?"

'_Heavens, so help me. I am absolutely nowhere of being 'close' to this… creature!'_

"Yeah, it's been gettin' to me a lot too, dane!" Yanagizawa quacked from behind Mizuki, bending his back a little.

'_It's not like I want to either,'_

"Well, we've known each other since we were kids. I was the one to approach him first since Shusuke is so shy… and since then on, we've been good friends, haven't we?"

Fuji cringed at Mizuki's smooth voice.

"_Yeah, right! You're just a damn fat-assed baboon with self-image issues and a crippled brain the size of a measly pea, and a day without hearing about your non-existent perfection will be bliss, and I'm not your bloody slave! Oh, by the way, your attempts at sounding 'sexy' is commendable, but let's face it, it sucks big time!"_

His mind was screaming, urging Fuji to just do something. He wanted to spat, to hurl something, to just _do_ something. But he could only nod and half-heartedly hoped that they could just be on their merry way and leave him be in peace if only for a minute.

"And because Shusuke is very smart, he's a great help."

Fuji slid his eyes shut, pushing the glasses on the bridge of his small nose and recited a complicated formula inside his head, willing himself to maintain his cool and let it slide, like he always did. It wouldn't do for everything that he endured so far to fall apart just because he couldn't keep his temper in check this time. Why should it be different from any other time after all?

But then, Mizuki just had to take things further.

"You know something, Shusuke?" Mizuki suddenly leaned forward, his pretty face twisting in mock concern as he pretended to inspect Fuji's face.

'_What now?'_

Fuji eyed him warily as Mizuki's lips curled into a smirk, and a sense of familiar, impending dread climbed his spine.

"You should really change those stupid glasses of yours," Mizuki said in his airily light voice, "It's _hideous_, and it has absolutely zero sense of class."

Fuji's grip on his pencil tightened to a point that he nearly snapped it into two. His knuckle was almost white, and he knew that he was trembling slightly

'_He couldn't just leave you alone, could he? No, he might roll over and die if he did. The day that Mizuki Hajime would leave you to some peace and quiet of mind would be the day that Hitler raised from his grave and declared that he only had half a testicle.'_

"But I guess it's a self-mirroring trait, ne? You have _no_ sense of fashion, after all." He leaned backward again, as Akazawa, Yanagizawa and the three girls cackled.

Fuji tried to restrain himself from hurling the thick dictionary lying just beside his pencil case. It took him quite a bit of his will power, which was thankfully quite resilient.

'_Should you be letting them do this to you?'_

_No._

'_You can always try to do something…'_

He scoffed mentally at his own thoughts.

_Don't be stupid, Shusuke. Why now after all this time?_

'_Jeez, beats me, because you just couldn't take it anymore? I know for one thing that _I_ can't for that matter.'_

And with that, Fuji suddenly shot up to his feet, slamming his fist on his table like there was some kind of invisible force that felt like it would burst from his chest if he didn't do something.

It took the group of six by surprise, as they stared at Fuji curiously and incredulously as if he had grown another head. Apparently, they didn't expect that from him even though they were obviously taunting him.

Mizuki was frowning though, looking almost disgruntled as he eyed narrowly at the brunet after recovering from the surprise. When he spoke, his tone was light but it had this certain edge that warned Fuji of who he was exactly.

"What is it, Shusuke?"

Fuji raised his face and opened his mouth, but the words wouldn't come out. He repeated the action two more times and cursed his traitorous mouth that decided to abandon her now.

"I –"

Mizuki's eyes narrowed dangerously and Fuji could see the vindictive gleam that he had once seen before Mizuki made the last classmate who refused his advances to a point of near insanity with his continuous terrorizing.

"I'm… umm, ah…" When Fuji remembered that, he started to doubt whether it was a good idea to go against Mizuki Hajime. He found that it wasn't, and Fuji decided that it was better to be a smart coward than a stupid one.

Taking a deep breath, Fuji simply lowered his face and clenched his teeth for second before grounding out as quietly as possible, "… I'm going to the toilet."

'_Coward. Was what _that_ about, you moron?'_

Fuji heard Akazawa snorted in amusement and he didn't have to see to know that the dark skinned man was smirking, though Yanagizawa remained bewildered.

Mizuki's suspicious glare was still pinned over him, before his face contorted into a disgustingly sweet smile that was almost rotten in a sense and far too calculative for his pretty face.

"Oh, you should've just said so, Shusuke. Of course you can."

"… Ahh,"

How was it that Mizuki was able to make it sound like Fuji needed his permission to go to the backroom was completely out of him, yet Fuji didn't let himself dwell into it before fleeting from the room like hell hound itself was hot on his heels, almost crashing into some of the students standing at the corridor outside the door in his haste to get away from Mizuki, ignoring the curious stares he received and a string of profanities when he bumped into some random blonde.

He could already picture Mizuki Hajime sneering at him.

To Fuji, the most humiliating and frustrating part was probably the fact that he knew Mizuki had all the right to be self-satisfied about it.

-:- -:- -:- -:- -:-

Fuji entered a stall and locked the door. He made a move to close the toilet's lid and climbed on it, sitting there and pulling his knees to his chest. He couldn't really escape anywhere else without one of Mizuki's little boy toy following him around, so he might as well use the excuse to take a breath free of the pollution that was Mizuki Hajime and his little, misguided cult.

Contrary to popular belief, the tensai who scored into the top five during the national examination and aced his way into the famed Tokyo Daigaku, was not exactly someone who would forgive and forget as easily as people assumed when one looked at his clumsily gentle nature.

Level-headed and sensible as he was, Fuji was painfully shy and awkward. He was not good at communicating and definitely clumsy in socializing.

Since he was younger, Fuji was known to be one of the brightest and straight-laced students. The teachers and adults around him in general, placed great trust and hopes in him.

Dutiful Fuji, in his disposition, was obedient and unobtrusive, also unassuming even though he grew up with shining praises over his continuous academic achievements.

But even so, from time to time, Fuji had wanted to break away from everything and just breathe, or scream… or _both_.

With the most acute awareness, he knew that he couldn't disappoint his parents and his teachers. They had, unconsciously or not, placed severe pressure and sequential demands on the fragile brunet since young of age, who was struggling not to break under everything burdened to him.

It had caused him to drift apart from people, as he was too caught up with his studies and coping with the ever raising demands.

Of course, that came with a hefty price that Fuji wasn't sure he was able to pay.

The worst was probably his relationship with his little brother, which was now in shambles and at the verge of being irreparable.

Yuuta had said something about him not having any stand in life, and sometimes he wondered if Yuuta's words meant more than that. After that, Yuuta moved out of the house to his dorm.

Fuji had the life that the adults around him deemed as perfect, with an established future and a steady life. In the midst of ill-disciplined and rebellious teens his age, they had praised him with the highest extol an honorary student could have.

People applauded him, and his parents would laugh politely and ceremoniously brushed it aside with a look of almost modest pride written on their faces. During these occasions, his sister would excuse herself and his brother would leave the room curtly, leaving him to sit like the good boy he was to fidget awkwardly in the middle of the adults' conversation.

Fuji had always been ambitious in his attempts to please his parents, to please everyone around him. Even then, he couldn't help but notice a slight apprehension inside of him.

There was ugly monster of guilt and anxiety roaring inside him, wanting to tear out of his skin from time and again as his control threatened to slip away completely.

He couldn't quite describe this delicate nervousness that wrecked his system like a snake venom that coursed slowly, but deadly sure in his blood veins.

He hated that insecurity; he hated that small voice on the back of his head that sounded very much like his darker, unexplored side screaming how he would really _break_ one day if this continued on.

He shouldn't be so weak, like his father had always accused him of.

Still, Fuji couldn't deny the bit of irrational jealousy that poked him shamelessly each time he saw his peers talking and laughing without a care in the world, whose worries were only about the summer holiday and homework, and their girlfriends, or even their nagging parents.

He had seen family that portrayed scenes of intimacy and contentment, something that his family would never be able to achieve, not when his parents were too busy with their respective works and both were almost too severe in their discipline to spend some free time with their children.

Sometimes, he blamed his parents for everything that he was today. He loved them, he respected them, but still the irrational part of him had blamed them.

He _knew_ how people talked and disdained him behind his back. They would ridicule them, frontal or otherwise, and more often than not, they would be hostile toward. Some acted like he wasn't even there, some were having comical fun on his account.

Fuji hated everything about himself right now; not only for the talks, but also the strain between his family members because of _him_.

The tensai knew for a fact that compared to the rest of his family, listed down from his striking parents and beautiful siblings, he was simply far too average.

It wasn't that he was appalling, nor had he physical abnormalities of any kind. He was simply… plain and ordinary, perhaps.

He was not hideous, per se, but merely unattractive with his pale, unruly brown hair held back in a casual ponytail with a black rubber band, pasty face decorated with faint dark rings under his eyes, one or two pimples popping up occasionally, thick and bottle round glasses perched on the bridge of his small nose, while at an unimpressive five feet four and weighing no more than a measly 115 pounds.

"This is… stupid…" He clutched the side of his head with both hands, burying his own face against his pulled up knees, "_What_ am I doing really?"

He really hated the other male. But despite everything else, Fuji Shusuke was anything if not smart and adaptable.

There were people who he shouldn't offend, people who he should avoid conflicting with. Some were to be ignored, some had to be humoured. It wasn't easy being the weaker side in this little war of tyranny and oppression, but Fuji knew that he would have to play his cards well if he wanted to survive it.

Mizuki could really well make his life a living hell when knowing that he wouldn't be able to defeat the so-called 'Queen' even in his wildest dreams of shining victory and everlasting peace.

He had seen how Mizuki made some people's life, especially them who offended His Majesty in a way, miserable without remorse to the point of breaking. Last he heard, one was sent to a psychiatric ward and the other tried to jump from the third floor of his apartment building.

Mizuki had this really twisted concept of friendship and relationship, and he was also very good at winding just about everything using whatever means necessary to making things work in his favour.

He didn't have to do much really. All that he had to do was just to spread some smiles and legs, his or otherwise, or show some skin, and his so-called fan club would be at his beck and call like some really pathetic though overbearingly loyal dogs.

It was no small secrets how Mizuki Hajime operated when he had a whim, whether it was lays, getting laid, or just about everything else that was shallow and superficial. His fan club, one that dubbed themselves as the Mimes after his first and last name, practically worshipped the ground he walked on and was overly protective of their so-called goddess.

It was almost as if they lived to serve him, and while that was a good thing for him, it was nightmarish for everyone else on his bad sides.

Mizuki Hajime could and would say and do everything if it was to get what he wanted and got away with it unscathed. So most people, unless they had some suicidal reasons, knew better than to get in his ways.

Fuji was one of the more unfortunate souls to stumble along with Mizuki, being the favoured figurative black goat for ritual sacrifices in his little occult. It was one of the reasons behind Fuji's startling lack of anything resembling a religion in his life.

He had been stuck with Mizuki since their kindergarten days; the other being a mean little bully that was not very far off from the annoying creep that he was today.

Things got worse in their middle school days, because by then, Mizuki had grown into a rather attractive pre-teen and was starting to understand the power of the good looks he was blessed with. He wouldn't be so adept of using it at least until later when he learned about sex and its wonders during high school, but it was _enough_.

Fuji was still miserable, and Mizuki had practically harassed him through the middle school for test answers and made him do his homework.

When he passed the placement test for his first choice university Todai, he was both ecstatic and pleased with the prospect of not having to tolerate Mizuki's insufferable presence any longer.

Imagine his surprise when he saw _Mizuki Hajime_, out of all people, greeting him during the first day of class.

He nearly threw up his whole breakfast at first sight; he didn't, but barely though. He merely stared, dumbfounded and shocked, when the flamboyant male immediately latched himself to Fuji while chattering something away about how much he missed him and all like they were some sort of long lost friends, either ignoring or completely oblivious to Fuji's horrified expression.

Fuji was sure that his face was as white as his mother's immaculate bed sheets, and his eyes even wider than her stainless saucer.

Why was he there? How did he even end up there?

Mizuki, despite his much prided beauty, had the reasoning ability and logic of a retarded five-year old. Adding two and two was already a tasking chore for him, so how on earth did he end up in Tokyo University, medical major?

Then again, it might have something to do with his family's well known connection and rather staggering influence in the world of academy. Having parents somewhere _up there_ must have their own perks.

God, life was so unfair.

Fuji's family was no less reputable, but he got where he was on his own effort. Sometimes he envied people for being capable of dirty play.

Life went on, and Mizuki was still as depraved and immoral as usual if not worse. In the first week, there was a fan club dedicated to him. In another two weeks, he already had a _cult_.

Thus, it came down to this. After two long years, Mizuki had yet to be bored with toying Fuji and plunging his life in distress and misery, and Fuji was certainly _not_ honoured for the attention.

"Stupid Mizuki… stupid Mimes…" As he tugged on his own hair in a show of frustration, he cursed himself for having no backbone, "… hate you, hate you, hate you…"

He chanted it like a mantra, repeatedly an almost heatedly, knowing that he sounded like a redundant idiot but couldn't have helped it otherwise.

"God, I hate you! I wish all you idiots would just… leave me alone!"

Fuji wasn't sure whether he wanted to cry, scream, or do both. Even better, he wanted to just acquaint a fist or two to Mizuki Hajime's pretty face. He was sure that they would make _really_ good friends, and hopefully it would knock the excess narcissism in his system and his overly self-centred ego down a few notches.

Not that he'd fool himself into believing that the Mizuki Hajime's very existence had a meaning when he was not being vainglorious like the pompous little pain in the backside that he had been all along.

'_Graduation is still a _long_ way to go…'_

The brunet absently reached for the unneeded toilet papers and pulled unnecessarily on it, not really realizing what he was doing as he was completely immersed wallowing for his apparently bleak future.

'_Can I really make it?'_

…

'_Somehow I doubt myself.'_

He really felt like crying, but he couldn't. It frustrated him to no end that he couldn't do anything about it, and sometimes, Fuji wished that the earth would just crack up and swallow him whole. As if to vent the unspoken frustration, he started to crumple and tear the tissue papers in his hands.

After another five minutes or ten, Fuji was calmed enough to stand up and stuff the tissue papers into the toilet and flushed them.

He took a deep breath and turned to step out of the lavatory, only to find Oshitari Yuushi standing by the sink as he washed his hands.

Oshitari looked up and caught Fuji's reflection in the mirror. Their eyes met and while Fuji tensed at the contact, especially since those arcane eyes were not obscured by the glasses that were usually perched on the bridge of the patrician nose, Oshitari merely shrugged and leaned his upper body down in order to splash water to his face.

Immediately, Fuji stiffened as a wave of awkwardness washed over him like a bucket of ice water. Snapping out of his startled trance, he quietly flushed in humility and nodded at the handsome man, before shuffling his way to the sink furthest away from Oshitari, which was unfortunately happened to be only a few feet away from him.

He tried to avoid Oshitari's prone figure as he twisted the tap, and started to scrub his hand while keeping his gaze low.

The whole room was suddenly very quiet, if not for the sound of running water and quiet splashing. Fuji was feeling very uncomfortable, wanting to high tail out of there but was worried over somehow offending the other male.

Oshitari seemed to be finishing soon anyway.

How long had he been here anyway, Fuji idly wondered.

With sudden mortification as realization dawned on him like a punch square on the jaw, he looked up and saw his eyes widened in his mirror reflection.

'_No, he didn't hear that just now! He couldn't have!'_

Fuji stiffened slightly when Oshitari turned the tap off and ran both hands to push his slightly damp bangs to the back. He flapped his obviously refined hands to shake the droplets of water before he turned to the dryer hung near at the panel near him.

Silence loomed over them again, notifying Fuji that there were only them in the toilet. If it wasn't for the sound of Fuji's running water and Oshitari's rumbling dryer, the room would've been as eerily hushed as a graveyard during full moon nights.

'_I'm being stupid,'_ Fuji chastised himself inside his head, knowing that he was being overly exaggerative.

Still, he involuntarily tensed when the other male finished drying his hand and made a move to take his glasses that was placed on the porcelain surface next to the sink before wearing them.

Oshitari straightened his shirt casually before he walked pass Fuji, as if not even acknowledging his admittedly rather inconspicuous existence like usual. While Fuji usually wouldn't be so conscious of the other's presence, as the bespectacled man never gave signs that he noticed Fuji being there all the while, something unsettled him about this man, Oshitari Yuushi.

He didn't know whether it was his arcane eyes, the flat though acerbic remarks, or even the classic handsome face, but he was an enigma.

Fuji's eyes discreetly followed the graceful movement of the handsome young man when he suddenly stopped halfway from reaching the doorknob. Although he didn't turn around or even doing anything but stood there for the matter, it still served to stiffen Fuji's body even more.

Then he heard Oshitari's smooth, deep voice spoke into the silence.

"You could've said 'no', you know."

Fuji was so stunned that the man had even _talked_ to him in the first place that he couldn't do anything but stare. He couldn't even process the words after the man was long gone without so much as a glance.

It wasn't until three full minutes later that the meaning sunk into him and realized with some embarrassment that he had been staring gobsmacked into the empty air like a complete moron, and despite that he was still rather staggered by what just happened, it didn't miss him what Oshitari had been talking about.

He found himself slumping against the porcelain sink, not even bothering to turn off the running water.

"… So he heard anyway…" Fuji murmured miserably to no particular someone, thumping his forehead against the sink's smooth surface repeatedly as he groaned and moaned his luck, or the lack thereof.

'_Don't I feel like _such_ a moron…?'_

"Why me…?"

Oshitari must have undoubtedly thought of him as a laughable coward, which was true as he openly admitted.

What a miserable life. Sometimes, he just wanted to disappear.

Perhaps there were people more miserable than he in this weary world, but what had he done to condone such fate, he never knew. Perhaps everything that had been going on around him were just small nothings, things that bugged him like an irritating itch that refused to go away, nothing too big that it would make him slash a wrist like an emo with angst issues or snap a nerve.

But still, screw God for small things.

Suddenly Fuji heard his cell phone vibrated in his pocket at the same time there was a rather loud bang coming from the door, and Fuji saw one of Mizuki's devotees standing on the doorway with a scowl on his unattractive face.

"Oi, Fuji! What the hell were ya doin' in there fer so long?!"

"H, hai… I'm coming,"

"Well, hurry the fuck up! Haji-chan isn't gonna wait all day long just for ya to get yer sorry ass over there!" The larger male growled in a manner that Fuji thought looked more ugly than the threatening look Fuji supposed he was intending.

"So, whaddya waiting' for? Get a move on it already!"

Fuji clenched his eyes shut, mentally counting to ten and back as he tried to hold his tongue from lashing. At least, they could've been a little more erudite so he didn't have to shrivel over their pathetic grammar and diction each time.

If idiocy was contagious, Fuji feared that he would've lost half of his intelligence points from having to tolerate their company for so long.

Fumbling for his cell phone and fishing it out of his pocket, he flipped it open and found that he had a new text message.

The text message he received was short.

_Can you come to Recaume later for lunch at two?_

It was from his older sister.

-

-

Fortunetelling was more of a hobby for Fuji Yumiko more than anything else. Sure, she once took it up as her part-time job during her middle high days after some of her friends encouraged her, but it was only a casual thing for fun sake.

Sometimes she was right, sometimes she was wrong; she had the knack for it but even so, she knew better than to pry things that was not hers to know.

No one can challenge fate; human beings would never be able to change fate without losing something equally dear to them.

Yumiko was a woman of romantic reality, life and pleasure. She found that the thrill of the unknown was both exciting and frightening in its own right. Thus, she never really tempted to interfere and tampered with fortune more than it was appropriate for a human.

But occasionally, no one would blame her for sneaking a peak every now and then during her leisure time.

Usually, her subject of prediction revolved around her siblings' life, and sometimes about her own career. But mostly, she did it for her brothers.

There was something wistful about her little brothers growing up and becoming more independent. They used to follow their big sister all over the place before she decided to continue her study in France.

Doing small things like this made her feel a little closer to them, reminding her of the time when the two boys were still fascinated with this peculiar hobby of hers. Of course, Yumiko often asked either of them out for lunch or even dinner when she had the time.

With amused anticipation, she pulled a random card from her Enchanted Deck of seventy-eight and flipped it over. What she found torn away her secretive amusement and instead, replaced it with startled bafflement.

It compelled her to do a complete reading, as something in the back of her mind whispered beckoningly.

She shuffled the deck and cut them, concentrating on the thought of her little brother and the question that she had decided upon before deciding on a Celtic Cross spread. Placing the first card face up, she found herself staring at the Fool that was indicating Shusuke, the card of infinite possibilities.

Hurriedly, she started to deal the cards, placing them in their respective position in the spread.

Splayed horizontally over the indicator card, was the Five of Cups that represented the obstacle and pain from the past, much to her dismay. Even to this day, she still remembered the incident that literally crushed her otouto to shattered pieces. She could never forget the way Shusuke had looked.

Shaking her head, she placed the third card, that symbolized foundation of fears and hopes, below the first two was the Tower. Almost immediately, she felt ill at ease. No card scared a reader like the Tower. It was, however, one of the least ambiguous cards when it came to meaning.

False structures, false institutions, false beliefs were going to tumble down, suddenly and violently all at once. The worst part was that one might not know which was false anymore. Alas, they were about to get a very rude awakening; shaken up, torn down, blown asunder.

Now shaking slightly at the unfortunate revelation, she flipped the fourth card on the left of the indicator, one that spoke of the immediate past and present influence. It was Ten of Wands, and it caused Yumiko to raise an eyebrow. It didn't surprise her, considering that it could be taken quite literally. Her gentle brother was practically a marionette to their parents' whimsical demands, having to true purpose of life but to please them in order to be accepted. And his past was that of being ridiculed and betrayed by someone, a friend that he trusted, effectively shattering the young boy's self-esteem.

The fifth card that crowned the inner cross was revealed to be the Nine of Cups, and this time, her eyebrow shot up so high, it disappeared under her layered fringe. It the place of goals of the spread showed one of the most sensual of cards, as it implied satisfaction on all level; emotional, physical and sensual. It was a card of perfection, everlasting abundance, joy and happiness that was not far away from grasp.

Amused by this strange sudden change of reading, she flipped the sixth at the end of the cross, and found that it was the Two of Wands. Another Wand Suit; and this particular card suggested a power entering one's life that needed to be directed, embodying determination. It was the card that showed the next step of the journey, urging for one to continue along to reach the highest ambitions and create a reality. Boldness and daring were unlimited when this energy was under someone's control.

On the right of the third card, Yumiko uncovered the Hanged Man, telling her of Shusuke's approach to the situation. The Hanged Man, a card of suspension. This is a time of trial or meditation, selflessness, sacrifice, prophecy. This card could also imply a time when everything just stood still, a time of rest and reflection before moving on. It was not surprising, considering Shusuke's nature.

The eighth card told Yumiko of her otouto's surrounding and her eyes widened when she caught sight of the Hermit. It was a card that inquired about paradoxical facts of existence and purpose of life. Like the Hermit who sought his answers alone, one must stood without depending on others.

To rid of his inner turmoil, the Hermit withdrew into isolation and would only revealed himself when he was ready like and like the Fool, he was once again alone, but only by necessity not choice.

It was a card that bewildered Yumiko. She couldn't decide whether it was a good sign or otherwise. Moving on to the ninth card, one that hinted at outside's influence, she was once again taken aback.

The Devil, the most misunderstood of cards second to Death, a clear mockery of two previous Major Arcana, the Lovers and the Hierophant. This card emblazoned lust and ignorance, hidden intentions of hurtful wisdom. It taught one to free of restriction, spoke of self-control, but be weary of temptation. A mindset was a critical factor when the Devil card appeared and Yumiko worried for his brother whether he would be able to conquer this tumult and surmounted it.

Who could this Devil be?

Then, Yumiko averted her eyes to the tenth and final card, the card of outcome and almost immediately, Yumiko's frown diminished into a pleased expression.

It was the Lovers.

The Lovers was predominantly a card of the emotions, and it often portrayed love that was divinely blessed. But like the flame that was love, it could consume and destroy when it was profane just as it ignited the blaze of passion. But it was still a card of love, and Yumiko was a romantic to boots.

Really now, it was decidedly high time for her little brother to having something good going on in his life. Shusuke deserved something better with everything that he had to endure so far.

She shook her head in dismay, a sense of protectiveness blossoming forth in her chest almost rationally. Honestly, her little brother deserved so much more.

She was curious though, seeing that it was a little sudden. Shusuke's reading had never been like this. From the ten cards she drew, six were of the Major Arcana. It was slightly… disturbing.

In her contemplation, it dawned to Yumiko that she hadn't had the chance to see either of her brothers since a few weeks ago, with _that guy_ coming to Tokyo and all.

Faintly, she felt little sad when she realized that Shusuke rarely shared anything with her anymore since that incident during his final year in high school. He seemed to be even more reclusive than before, shying away from everything and everyone, including Yumiko herself.

Although her clever little otouto had always been shy darling and a little bit much on the quiet side, but it had never been quite so bad. Shusuke rarely spoke about what he felt and now, he didn't even smile anymore.

As if they were almost strangers, she didn't know anything about her own brother. Yumiko couldn't ignore that. If anything, she loved her brothers and she'd do _anything_ for them.

This might be a good chance to do some catching up with Shusuke, Yumiko decided as she stood and headed for the bedside table, reaching for her cell phone.

After all, Yumiko was never a woman to ignore her instinct when it called on her.

--------------------------------------------------

**End's Note:** So, what do you think? I changed the title because this sounded so much more appropriate. And anyway, I decided to make some more changes but it I don't think that it would affect the story too much. Fuji's personality altered a bit, but he mostly remained a pathetically cute virgin who needed to get laid, and Ryoma would be there to sweep him off his feet and pin him down the bed.

If any of you read the **_Reversed, I, and Hormones, oh Hormones_** and the rewritten **_Gakuen Story ~ Sensei Hours_**, now titled **_Imadoki no Shishunki ~ Awakening Puberty_**, and **_The Grace of Stealth ~ Killing Me Softly_**, now titled **_Kuchibiru ni Amai Doku ~ Sweet Poison on Your Lips_**, the following OCs – Odagiri Minoru, Hidaka Hatsuharu, Takamiya Kouki, Mizuno Shinya, and Shiina Hiromi – would reappear.

_**From this point onward, the number of reviews is going to decide the story updates. The most number of reviews will vote the story as the fastest one to update and the rest will follow in order.**_


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